Cinema and the Computer

Film, as it were, is a physical medium. Light creates an image on the film, and one can literally see that image when it is held to light. As M stated in a previous post, there exists a stark difference between film and its new counterpart video. Video is electronic signals scribed on tape, which, when held to light, procures no visible image. In my humble opinion, video should not be used in place of film. In the movie theater, one should be allowed to watch a film, not a video.
The video's place in this world is the internet. YouTube, Vimeo, Veoh and similar websites exist for the world to post their own creations for the world to see. There remains, however, a genre for different types of videos. There's a video blog, home videos, and FanFilms/Narratives. My largest problem with the online content of today lies within the separation of said genres. Many people use YouTube to post home videos and blogs, but lately it's been more about actual narrative videos. I feel these should be separated. Vimeo is a place to put up high-quality, narrative style videos in a social networking fashion. YouTube has only recently made the "High Quality" and "HD" capabilities to their videos, since so many people are posting their narrative videos, when Vimeo has been doing it for quite a while.
I don't want to visit YouTube to watch other people's poor (and sometimes decent) attempts at making narrative videos. The result is often that the videos are never viewed anyway, since the server is so bogged down with home videos and blogs.
The computer has made cinema less of a piece of art. Many young teenagers of today hope to become filmmakers, simply because they have access to a digital video camera and a generic editing software preinstalled on their computers. I say: leave the art to the professionals. Make your little videos for class, your class projects, but don't expect to make it into the business with those videos.

The Death of Cinema

It was the 31st of September 1983 when somewhere in the world cinema died. That is the Hollywood-centered narrative bookshop cinema died, according to Peter Greenaway, who in an interview with Andreas Kilb in 1989 stated, “I believe that the end has already arrived. Cinema is dying, in a social as well as in a technical sense. All the power, imagination, and scientific interest of the epoch has turned away from cinema." So there you have, it’s dead.

But how can something so alive be dead? How can something so engrained into our culture, something that one cannot go a day without reference to, be dead? How can a multibillion-dollar entertainment industry be dead? It can’t. And it takes a self-assured and ignorant sense of being to claim something so alive and relevant to be anything but.

Perhaps it is the state of being, or was. If cinema died twenty years ago, when I was two years old, what have I been doing with my life? Cinema is not a material function, its not like a warming pan that aside from being dangerous was rendered obsolete with something called heating. If anything, cinema is more alive than ever. What does it mean to be alive? Continuing in existence. A quick look around practically anywhere shows you that cinema is only growing, expanding, reaching into the far corners of the world and infecting everybody in its reach. If anything cinema is threatening to kill us.

In some ways it already has. We emulate and worship it, and demand to continue to do so. We expect to see certain things and are disappointed when we don't. Cinema has a firm and unloosening grasp on our culture. I would say it knows this but that seems impossible. But we know it and therefore cinema knows it. And if cinema is conscious, it is only conscious of the fact that it is us. So if it were dead, we would be dead. So maybe we are.

But step back for a second. We create cinema. We invented it, or at least discovered it. We brought it into this world and we can take it out. Cinema is not a self-perpetuating organic machine that self-replicates to endless degrees. The fact that it does indeed replicate is product of our intentions. We perpetuate its existence, its familiarity, its uniqueness, its life. We are the sole responsibility for its actions. It cannot act without us. And if it does act with apparent opposition to our desires then its because we unknowingly told it to.

At this point, cinema is something that keeps us alive. Film practically flows through the veins of theoretical ponderings and historical writings and popular culture. At this point we cannot avoid it. Something has been created that may never be destroyed. At this point it is too late to for it to die. The only contention, ending on a drearily apocalyptic note, is that we have the power to kill it.

Upcoming Feature: Where the Wild Things Are

Maurice Sendak's beloved children's book Where the Wild Things Are, a 48 page picture book is a story about a young boy named Max. Max creates all kinds of mischief one night, landing him the punishment of being sent to his room. There Max's imagination transforms his room into a jungle. He takes a boat to the land of the Wild Things and the "royal rumpus begins!" Essentially, there isn't much to this book. I highly suggest you read this quick little book if you haven't already.
The question remains, however, how Spike Jonze and Dave Eggers were able to adapt a 48 page picture book into a feature length film.
The film will focus a lot of attention on the connection between Max and his monster buddies, who are given more complex personalities (more simply put: they actually have character buildup.) Where the book simply focuses on Max's longing for home and his mother, the film will delve into the deeper issues of Max's problems with his family, and how innocence can be lost through a rough childhood.
The Wild Things, now available from Barnes and Noble (and other notable booksellers) is Dave Eggers 300 page novel "based loosely" on Sendak's original book.
For this week, check out the synopsis and tv spots provided by comingsoon.net.
You can also visit Where The Wild Things Are homepage.

Watchmen. What Happened?

The problem with Watchmen, other than its director, is the expanse of the source material both in content and complexity. At over 400 pages, if it were a screenplay it would run more than 6 hours. Inescapably, something must be cut. When I saw it at midnight amongst a bunch of excited boys, the atmosphere provided more than the film. My original thoughts. “Oh, Watchmen. Beneath the glitz and glamour, plastic suits, cheesy lines, bad acting, and barrage of cartoony effects lies a story, an idea, an opinion about the world and our place in it. With this, it seems only through the strange medium that we can self-reflect, a self reflection obscured partly by questionable musical selections, strangely uncomfortable sex scenes, and unfortunate CG effects. Just like 300, the trailers remain epic, the films do not.”

I would not change anything about these ideas as I first presented them. Much of the choices are indeed questionable. One can practically hear Snyder giggling with the glee of a fourteen-year-old girl as Night Owl and Silk Spectre 2 go at it to Leonard Cohen’s Halleluiah. The special effects, though wholly necessary, are overbearing. The suits are clunky and acting unbelievable. I’d like to suspend disbelief and enter the Watchmen world but simply unannot.

I shouldn’t be too surprised. 300 boasted an awesome and epic trailer much like Watchmen. However, other than flashy stylistic time dilation and strange visuals, the film was empty, ridiculous, and disappointing. So this brings us to Zack Snyder. His only other feature credit being the 2004 Dawn of the Dead remake. With little under his belt besides mindless entertainment whose success rides on the number of ‘Awesome!’ moments, Snyder seems a novice recipient of the Watchmen helm. Paul Greengrass, Darren Aronofsky, and Terry Gilliam were all candidates to direct. We can only guess how it would have fared under their control.

Hidden Beauty

Probably the first film where I actually fell in love with Asian culture, this unique film about love and understanding compels one to either want to beat someone up, or love them with all your heart. From the first beautiful shot to the last, Ang Lee's masterful eye for powerful images translates a beautiful land into a beautiful picture. It's a story about growing up, and being mature, and it seems no one character has a strong grasp on the concept until the very end of the film.
Beautiful Images are enhanced by an amazing soundtrack by two of china's most important musical people: Tan Dun and Yo-Yo Ma. The vast scope of the score perfectly coincides with the vast story and landscape of the film, transporting one to heights higher than Wudan Mountain. Superb music enhances wonderful imagery, which itself is beautifully displayed through masterful cinematography, camera movements, and coloring. There's hardly a breathless moment.
The scope of the images and the music is further enhanced by a brilliant story, brought to life by some very talented actors. Chow Yun Fat and Michelle Yeoh do exceptionally well together, while Ziyi Zhang and Chen Chang bring spunk to the screen. The set decoration, costuming and locations were perfect to give the characters the most lively feel.
Of course, this film would no be Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon without the wonderfully choreographed fight sequences. While you may find that "flying" is a bit cheesy, it makes for some rather wonderful moments that make one simply want to jump away to the sky. The sword fights and the hand-to-hand combating is wonderfully composed and just as wonderfully pulled off by the actors (especially Ziyi and Michelle). There are moments, however, where increased pace of film slightly decreases the perfection of the shots, but this can be hardly noticeable if one does not look for it.
Watch this wonderful film with an open mind, but be careful to not pass out from not breathing.

Poster

Why is it that the Japanese poster for Scorsese’s next film is much more effective than any of the US designs? Is it that the oft-used color scheme has become an overused idea for dramatic films? Is it the unoriginal notion of plastering the stars image as half of its surface area? Or is it the unfamiliarity with the Japanese Katakana alphabet that lends a legitimate uncertainty and deception to a film/book that occupies the same themes? Perhaps none of these, perhaps all of them.

The movie poster is an art unto itself. And it is one that often seems obligatory and unmotivated. Here are the stars, here is a tagline, go see this movie. This is not to say many posters lack a creative and compelling design, lots do indeed expand the content of a movie. However, the ever-present commercial purpose of advertising one’s art seems to trump the potential to develop supplementary artistic support of the film.

Zombieland on the Menu.

The zombie movie is one of those subgenres that has been done, redone, and overdone. Hoards of trashy, low budget thrills exist, driven by audience desire for blood splatter and cannibalism. For wider audiences we see both parody and apocalyptic explanations for zombie existence. Either way, their popularity is far from faltering with zombies in comics, music, and video games as well as zombie walks uniting thousands in full costume.

Thus the success of the commercialized zombie film in recent years should not come as much of a surprise. And the expected success of Ruben Fleischer’s Zombieland is well warranted. Far from being simply a slash and smash through zombie-infested streets, (which it is) it is also fun and entertaining survival guide commenting on social excess and allowance.

In a Michael Cera inspired performance, Jesse Eisenberg plays a surprisingly self-assured and inwardly confident loner whose instincts and rules have assured his survival this long. He inadvertently meets up with a freewheeling, gun-toting, rule-less advertisement for American material indulgence and environmental disregard in the form of Woody Harrelson. The odd couple exposes one another’s quirks and skills as they travel a lawless and dangerous landscape.

Unfortunately, the biggest danger that exists are two other un-infected whose self-promoting survival instincts outweigh any thought at propagating the human race. An annoying Abigail Breslin and appropriate Emma Stone, sisters in crime, outwit their human rivals leaving mankind to fend for itself. And thus be Zombieland, a film whose execution would have fared better if it weren’t distracted with developing a been-there done-that young romance/proving of worth storyline. (Albeit this is a necessary element to create anything more than a stylistic how-to on zombie survival.)

Here lies the strength of the film. It is an exciting and endlessly fun exploitation that brings out the inherent fun in inventing ways to kill zombies. With an incomplete list of motion tracked titles we learn the rules to survive the zombie apocalypse, an event that seems entertainingly welcome after watching this film. Extreme slow motion shows citizens amidst fleeting survival as the walking dead spew grossly colored liquids and ravage bloody flesh. It’s nothing new to brainstorm creative disposal methods; entire films have been made from this. Fleischer recognizes such and introduces the sparingly used zombie kill of the week, which should have come about more often.

Zombieland, from what one might expect from a zombie comedy, doesn't hold back in quality gruesome theatrics and bodily fluid dispersal. The usual mass collections of extras get dismembered, destroyed, smashed, burned, crushed, and banjoed to comical and rewarding result. As do many of the sets. Vehicles, amusement parks, gift shops, bathrooms, and any and all locale fall victim to rampant and excessive violent outrage on the part of the main characters. Here noted is a rather unfortunate and irresponsible aspect of the filmmaking process that is for from being altered; excess.

Harrelson arrives in a Cadillac, searches for Twinkies, changes to a Hummer and invokes the great American way by living large and worshipping Bill Murray. Infused with pop culture references and aimed at a very MTV related demographic, the social relevance and connection of movies to modern life is undeniable. To invoke a clichéd analogy, we are already zombies feasting on the commercial America and loving it. And Zombieland is one of the most delicious feasts in a while. Eat up.

100 Worst This Decade

With my own personal viewings, I would say:

Gerry (2002) Gus Van Sant
-----A complete disregard for the audience's interests, this movie throws minute-long shots of two men lost in the desert, with a storyline that could have been given us in 10 minutes.
A Sound of Thunder (2005) Peter Hyams
-----A poor excuse for a time-travel movie, this 2005 mess includes everything you wouldn't want: including a predictable end, inexcusably poor CG, and a disregard for time logic.
Babylon A.D. (2008) Matthieu Kassovitz
-----What little plot exists comes at us in the last 10 minutes of the film, chopped up and thrown together with little regard for cohesion.
Doom (2005) Andzrej Bartkowiak
-----Overall, an unacceptable adaptation of a videogame doomed for failure with the first line of the movie.
Son of the Mask (2005) Lawrence Guterman
-----Why I ever found myself watching this, I can't explain. How I was able to through the entire movie, nobody can explain.

Rotten Tomatoes' List

Kill Bill 3

Kill Bill Volume 1 has been the only Tarantino film I can actually admit to legitimately liking. His verbose and loquacious characters don’t usually offer the dramatic tension and excitement I desire, Basterds has come the next closest. His recent and potentially still tentative intention of returning to the Kill Bill universe indeed intrigues me.

On a French talk show he excited the audience by dropping Kill Bill 3 desires. Certainly hoards of fanboys are drooling over any tidbit of information that seeps from his heavenly mouth. I won’t admit any surprise in Tarantino enduring popularity and God-like stature. Unfortunately, for me, most of his films yield little interest. This doesn't mean I don't see his films by any means. And while the potential of any of the number of projects he might suggest doesn't hold much place to me, the prospect of continuing the Kill Bill saga represents the exception.

Camera Obscura

The nature of the cinema has changed. And while some would argue for the better and some for the worse, the fact of the matter is that the primal ingredient is near void, at least in its creation.

While the current state of film is vastly commercial, its founding footsteps were strictly scientific. Experiments with the camera obscura played with darkness, and of course with light. And for the majority of its life, the motion picture industry has survived because of it. The chemical celluloid process cannot exist without exposure, and the money spent to pump electricity to lights was spent with the assumption that it would be returned in profit. Today, some of the most wildly popular films exist without casting light onto paper. Are they movies? Sure. Are they films? Not technically, unless they are projected non-digitally.

For many, myself included, this is an alarming state in which to find ourselves. Video cameras are nearing the look and versatility of film, albeit they still have a ways to go. However, there shouldn't be much doubt that the day will come when the inexpensive, pro-sumer camera can out power the machines used by professionals for years. Some would certainly argue they already do.

But they miss the point. Video in its own right is a separate scientific area not to be confused with nor overshadow that of film. The medium that needs light to live, much like the plants and animals that inhabit our planet. I built a camera obscura, something I have not done since high school physics class. It was one of the most cathartic and truly amazing things I have done in a while. What differs between this and film is permanency.

The moving images I viewed in the darkness resembled the static observations found in countless films of past and present. They were alive and upside-down. They were also the beginning steps of the superior form of capturing life, of holding its image for the ages. But they only last for the split seconds that they happened and subsequently disappeared for all of time. Film lasts a little bit longer.